Missing Moments
by Hogwarts Online II
Summary: Several missing moments from Harry Potter written by different authors on fanfiction
1. Chapter 1: Prissie: Book Five: Moment 1

What felt like the end

Missing Moment: Book 5:11.

Luna's mother's death

By: FantasyGirl: Prissie from Ravenclaw

It was just like any other day. Young Luna was in the kitchen eating breakfast when her mother peeked around the stairs and called out softly, "Good morning, Luna." Luna looked up in surprise and stared unfocusedly at the lady descending the stairs. "Good morning, Mommy."

Mrs. Lovegood approached Luna and cuddled her while planting a kiss on top of her head. Luna just responded by bulging her eyes while chewing her food.

"What are you having for breakfast, dear?" Mrs. Lovegood asked while taking a seat next to her daughter.

"My favorite Freshwater Plimpy soup," Luna beamed dreamily, looking up at her mother. "Want some, Mommy?"

Her mother laughed lightly and replied, "No, thanks, honey. I've had my breakfast already."

"Oh…," Luna trailed off.

"Well, I need to get back to my experiment, now," her mother said after a long pause only filled by the sound of Luna's chewing.

Luna jerked her head up, excited. "Can I watch, Mommy?"

"How could I resist such an angelic face?" her mother smiled.

Luna kept staring wide-eyedly at her mother, so Mrs. Lovegood continued, "Of course you can, Luna. You always do. Go finish your breakfast; I'll be waiting for you in my lab." With that, she rose and ruffled Luna's long blonde waves before heading up the stairs.

Luna hurriedly gulped down her food and then raced up the stairs to the topmost landing of her house. She peeked around the door of her mother's lab to see her mother preparing various jars of unknown objects.

"What are you experimenting with, today?" Luna asked with the innocent curiosity of a nine-year-old.

"Whittlegroot tentacles. They're good for experimenting; they fight back when shot at with a spell, that way it's almost like a practice duel," her mother explained. "Today I'm going to see what happens if I merge a Stunning Spell with a Shield Charm," she winked.

"Ooh!" Luna clapped her hands. "That must be really interesting, Mommy. If it works, they you'd be able to attack and defend at the same time, right?" Luna enthused with typical Ravenclaw thoughtfulness – even though she hasn't been Sorted yet, she was surely going in that House.

"Exactly, my intelligent little Luna," her mother complimented.

"I can't wait to study at Hogwarts and learn magic…," Luna said, staring off into space and as if speaking to herself.

"I can't wait to see what a wonderful witch you'll become," her mother smiled sincerely. "Now keep silent, okay. I'm about to start."

Luna pressed her lips together tightly, but otherwise looked very serene and dreamy.

"…or should it be Stropego? Hmm, but that would mess up the essence of the spells…," Mrs. Lovegood mused to herself. She scribbled several things down and then said, "Alright. This one's worth a try." She pointed her wand at the Whittlegroot tentacles and cried, "Stuptego!"

WHAM! Suddenly there was a blinding flash of white light. The curse had rebounded itself and attacked its caster instead. Mrs. Lovegood shrieked in shock and pain.

Luna let out a short scream. Something heavy pressed her chest as she saw her mother fell to the floor, and lay there unmoving. She ran towards her mother.

"Mommy? Mommy, are you okay?" she asked in a small voice, her eyes moving wildly. She kneeled beside her mother and stared. All she did was keep staring. And somehow Luna knew. She knew that her mother won't be kissing her good night anymore. She knew that her mother wouldn't watch her grow to be an extraordinary witch. She knew that her mother was there no more. She knew that her mother was gone.

Tears made their way out, pouring from her prominent eyes and streaking her pale cheeks. She made no noise, she didn't wail nor sob. But she couldn't stop crying. And she started shaking as her tears fell harder.

It felt like the end. Everything she had, all seemed irrelevant now. It was all over. Luna had nothing left but emptiness and void.

She moved slightly backwards to make way for her father, who rushed into the room and towards her mother. It was all vague to her. She could just make out the blurry outline of her father. He was holding on to her mother, rocking himself back and forth and wailing wildly – unlike his daughter.

When the people from St. Mungo's arrived, their tears had receded. Luna and Mr. Lovegood stood against the wall as they watched the Healers examine the body.

Luna paid no attention as a Healer approached Mr. Lovegood and explained what had happened. The spell had automatically rebounded itself because it was merged with a Shield Charm, and it hit Mrs. Lovegood with thrice its original power. What with the close proximity and an additional counter attack from the tentacles, it killed her.

Luna just watched her mother's body, letting it all sink in. She didn't know what to do now. She didn't know what will happen next. She felt lost.

Mr. Lovegood reached for Luna's hand and squeezed it. Luna looked up to her father's eyes. Luna's usually happy, clear silvery grey eyes now looked clouded and miserable, and as if she'd suffered a hundred years of torture. They also looked much, much emptier than usual.

Mr. Lovegood just whispered, "Oh Luna."

And Luna just kept staring into her father's eyes. Even though her father looked utterly devastated, she could see something else in his eyes. Deep, _deep_ in his eyes. It was as if they were trying to communicate something to her. And only someone intelligent could see it, what with it being buried deep under a thousand masks of sorrow and misery and loss. Luna could see it, of course. If anyone could delve into the core of anything, it would be her.

She could see them telling her that everything would be alright, that there is still hope. That _he_ is still there for her, and will always be.

And that was enough for Luna. Suddenly she didn't feel so alone anymore. Suddenly she felt hope. And she realized that she hasn't lost _everything_. She still had something. Someone. Someone very important and precious. Her father. She would be alright as long as she still had him. He would be alright as long as he still had her. And they did. They had each other.

She hugged her father tightly.


	2. Chapter 2: Priya: Book 5: Moment 10

Dreams come true

Missing Moment: Book 5:10.

Fred and George leaving Hogwarts and opening the shop.

By: FredRocks29 (Priya) of Ravenclaw

"We did it, Gred, we did it!"

"I know, I know, do you think my memory's been wiped or something?"

"No, but you could show a _little _bit more enthusiasm. I mean, we just escaped the clutches of the evil toad-woman on confiscated broomsticks! How cool is_ that_?"

"OK, you have a point. You forgot to mention the Portable Swamp and the 'flying off into the sunset' bits."

"Details! But they do add to the whole feeling of complete amazingness."

"Attention-seeker."

"Sod off. Like you're not basking in the glow of our supreme brilliance too."

"Whatever." I looked at him in surprise. His tone had gone from teasing to angry in about 5 seconds, and I had absolutely no idea why.

All day, whenever I tried to talk to him, the only responses I got were irritable and tetchy.

"George, what is your _problem_? "

"I haven't got a problem. It's you with the problem." came the toneless reply.

"All day, instead of rejoicing, you've been mopey and bad-tempered. What's up? You can tell me, you know."

"Fine. I know it seemed like a really good idea when we were at school, but I just want to go back now."

"_What?_" I asked incredulously. After all we had gone through, this past year that we'd put up with Umbridge and her ridiculous rules, George wanted to _return _to Hogwarts?

"I – well I miss Katie."

"You want to go back to Hogwarts for a girl?"

"You don't understand, Fred! I think – I think I love her!"

"George... this is our dream. You can't ruin everything by wishing you were back at school!"

"Were you serious about Angelina?" he shot at me. I was so flabbergasted by his change of tack that it took me a few seconds to answer. He _knew _I'd really liked Angelina; but I wasn't about to let that get in the way of doing what I'd wanted to do for my whole life.

"You know I was. And I know you were in love with Katie."

"Why do you keep talking about it in the past tense? I still _am _in love with Katie!"

"But it is the past, George. This is our future now; the shop! Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Whatever, Fred. You are way too obsessed with this bloody shop!"

We tried to storm into the room we shared at exactly the same time, both extremely angry with the other. I looked at him, he looked at me, and we paused for a few seconds; then we burst out laughing. Our ability to think the same things kind of freaked me out a bit sometimes.

"George..." I started once we'd calmed down enough to talk. "Look, I'm sorry I was acting like Katie doesn't matter. I know how much she means to you. I know that you miss her. But it's not like you can't ever speak to her again."

"Yes it is. I can't even write to her, 'cause Umbridge will be checking all the mail. And all the fireplaces are blocked from the Floo. And I can't exactly just Apparate to Hogsmeade, can I?" George replied, the dejectedness back in his voice.

"Well, it's almost the end of the year, and she can come visit in the summer, and then you can spend all day with her."

His face lit up at the prospect. A sudden worry hit me.

"Don't forget about me though, will you?"

George snorted. "Are you serious? I can't exactly forget you, can I? You are my twin, after all."

I grinned at him.

"Honestly." he smiles. "What would you do without me?"

I turned to look around our shop – _our shop!_ I could feel that stupid grin coming over my face again, but I couldn't do anything about it.

"Why are you grinning at a poster of Bathilda Bagshot?"

"I'm not!" I could feel myself blushing, as I realised what I had been staring at; we hadn't had a chance to redecorate yet.

"Awww, little Freddie has a _crush _on Bathilda Bagshot! Mummy'll be pleased – 'At least Freddie's chosen himself a _nice _lady!'"

"Shut up!" I chucked the nearest thing I could find – one of Lockhart's books – at my twin as he grinned smugly at me.

But nothing, not even the most annoying brother in the history of the world, could affect the feeling of complete happiness inside of me. We had defeated Umbridge; we'd be forever remembered by the students of Hogwarts for our spectacular exit!Our dream had finally come true, after all these years of scheming in our bedroom and testing products on each other.

No-one, except George, understood how bloody _awful _it had been this last year, sitting in lessons and pretending to study. Sometimes, I'd been so frustrated I hadn't even been able to crack a joke – a first for a Weasley twin.

As I fell asleep that night in the flat above the shop, it seemed like absolutely nothing could go wrong now; I was too happy to even worry about what Mum would do when she found out.

I woke up at 5 a.m. on opening day, and made so much noise that I woke George too.

"Whassamatter?" he yelled groggily in my direction.

"It's _opening day_! Get up!" I exclaimed.

"All right, all right. I'm coming!"

The next few hours passed in a blur of last-minute preparations and minor disasters, and when I was really at the end of my tether, a Howler arrived from Mum. They must have been able to hear our mother's enraged voice in Southern France. However, once the smoking letter had screamed itself out, the day seemed to go much better.

At last, it was time to start the grand opening. After checking one last time that the timing charms on the fireworks were working, we headed outside. A small crowd had gathered, probably after hearing about our escape from Hogwarts.

'Being famous feels _so _good.' I told George under my breath.

'Yeah, just what I was thinking. Now hurry up and start talking. The audience is getting restless.'

'Alright, alright!'

We pointed our wands at our throats and said '_Sonorus!_' in unison.

'Ladies, gentlemen and excitable young children, prepare yourselves.' I began.

'You are about to make the shopping trip of your lives,' continued George.

'Witness the grand opening of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_!' I exclaimed.

As the first firework exploded somewhere behind my head, and the crowd whooped and cheered, knew that finally, _finally_, my dream had come true.


	3. Chapter 3: Erin: Book 2: Moment 7

Monster Inside Me

Missing Moment: Book 2:7

Ginny Making Her Way Into the Chamber

By icedpandacookies: Erin: Ravenclaw

I'm stuck inside my own head, screaming and fighting and begging, down on my knees, begging him to _let me out._ He won't, though. He never does. Never. He just yells at me to shut up, then forces me even further back into the tiny alcove I've hollowed out inside my mind. It's the worst feeling in the world, because whilst I'm stuck here, I know exactly what to do, how to stop him taking control the next time; but when _next time_ rolls around, I can't remember a thing. Nothing except the searing, burning pain that wraps around each muscle and tendon and ligament like icy fire. I can't break free, no matter what.

He forces me out of my soft, warm bed and down the chipped stone steps into the Common Room. I feel myself consumed by him, by his insatiable hunger for _Harry Potter. _It takes me over, until I can barely remember why I need to fight him. Why should I fight him; I _am _him, and he is me. Harry is only a nuisance to be eliminated, a tiny boy to destroy, as he should have been twelve years ago.

But a tiny, inconsequential part of me remains, and remembers that I love him. It keeps me vaguely _me_ as Tom walks towards Myrtle's toilet wearing my body like a glove, a spark of determination lighting my eyes.

He pushes open the door with my hand, and I stare at it for a moment, seeming to see something move and strain under my skin. We're fighting so hard for control that my body can't take it and fights back too.

He hisses, and it's with his voice, not mine. He cracks my neck bones and glares at me – him – _us_ in the mirror until I back down. I know I can't fight him, not really. He's too strong, or I'm too weak. I'm really not sure anymore.

I feel him drag my fingers over the frigid metal of the taps, seeking the tiny engraved serpent I've felt so many times before. Then a strangled hiss sounds from my throat, echoing dully around the empty room, a noise that's so familiar now, but that I don't understand. I only understand the effects of us uttering it: an increase in the intensity of the fire that curls itself through every pore of my body like smoke, and a grating noise that screams in my ears as the sink slides away, exposing the entrance to the chamber. The Chamber of Secrets lies beneath our feet and its malodourous stench rises into the room until I have to struggle not to gag. He wouldn't look kindly on that.

We slip inside the passageway, deep beneath the castle and slide down, down, down, until it feel as though we must have reached the very centre of the earth. Only instead of being hot, it's cold, so very, very cold. I try to shiver, but he stops me. He despises any form of weakness at all. We're just the same in that respect, only he thinks the things that make us strong are our weaknesses. He hates any show of emotion, thinking that this only gives someone the power to hurt us. He's right, I suppose, but also so very wrong. But he'll never understand that – for Tom Riddle, power is the only thing that matters.

I muster my strength for what I know must be a final attack. We're nearly at the chamber, and then it will be all over. I know I'm going to die here, all alone in a filthy pit, with stagnant water in every hollow and dirt and slime coating every wall until they glisten dully in the greenish, subterranean light. If I'm going to die, though, I may as well go down fighting.

I push with all my might against the thin membrane that separates me from him, willing myself to break through and regain control over myself. If I can do that, even for just a minute, I might not die in vain. I might, just, be able to help Harry, help everyone.

As I push, the memories come flooding back. The red paint, daubed on the walls. The chickens I killed, their feathers stuck to my uniform, almost giving me away. The cat. Colin. Hermione. Penelope. Oh, God. Penelope. How would Percy ever forgive me? Maybe I deserve to die; I tried to kill by brother's girlfriend. And now I'm going to help him kill my brother's best friend. I don't deserve to live, I don't deserve their help. My resolve weakens, and I stop fighting, subdued now. He takes advantage, and springs, pressing me firmly back into the recesses of my mind. I'm too weak to resist.

And then I'm suddenly free, a weight torn from my shoulders as I flood back into the ripped and damaged caverns of my brain. I've been under his control for too long though, and I can barely support myself. I stumble, my shoulder hitting the solid stone of the floor with a thud and a crack. My eyelids flutter, one last time, and the last thing I see is the smiling face of Tom Riddle, his black eyes boring into me as I close my eyes for the final time.


	4. Chapter 4: Bridget: Book 5:Moment 4

Last Stand

Missing Moment: Book 5: 4.

The fate of any of the members of the original Order of the Phoenix

By: Blond Pickled Mule: Bridget: Hufflepuff

Back to back, mind to mind, heart to heart- just like they always were, though this time was undoubtedly different from anything the Prewett twins had ever faced before. The little village square was deserted, snow just beginning to fall. A few lamps were alight with flames in cottage windows, a few shadows dancing over the cobbles. Both men's breath rose in clouds before them, swirling up into the cloudless sky. It would have been a beautiful scene if not for the dozen or so black hooded figures that surrounded them, wands outstretched.

Gideon could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest, the stitch in his side throbbing as he shifted, trying to get some feeling back into his toes. They'd been running for hours, miles, but still they were being hunted. He could feel Fabian at his back, his laboured breathing almost the only thing he could hear in the darkness. It had only been a matter of time before something like this happened, they both knew that, but it was a shame it had to be so soon. Thoughts raced through his head; spells, faces and places all blurring together in his head until he couldn't tell where one memory started and the other began. The hand clutching his wand shook.

When they were almost elbow to elbow, the Death Eaters stopped, eyes glinting in the dim luminescence of the moon from underneath their cloaks. Gideon stared right back, rolling his shoulders. Fabian cracked his knuckles, legs tensing. No one moved; they barely breathed. For a moment time seemed to stand still, and Gideon sighed inaudibly, resigning himself to the fight. Both of them were going to go down fighting of course, but not even they could get out of such dire straights.

* * *

The one thing Fabian regretted was not having more time to spend with Molly. Their little sister meant everything to the twins, and her family was the centre of their lives. He felt guilty, almost unbearably so, for the pain he knew they were about to put them all through. Fabian wished this could be like the other missions they'd been on- they'd fight five Death Eaters or so, _nearly _get killed, they'd come home; Molly would shout herself hoarse before bursting into tears and hugging them, and they'd have some brilliant new stories to tell their nephews. It was a life they'd been living for the past three years, but of course it couldn't go on forever.

This time they were well and truly finished. Fabian got the feeling some people in the circle had been looking forward to this far more than was necessary- someone to his immediate left was brandishing his wand with vindictive glee. The Prewett twin glared at him where he stood, his twin's unkempt hair tickling the back of his neck. Something was about to happen, he could feel it.

Fabian adjusted his grip on his wand quickly, swallowing heavily. So this was it then. He wasn't going to cheer about it, but he wasn't going to hide either- he was going to go with honour, it would be his final defiance against Voldemort and all that he stood for. Gideon squeezed his wrist and Fabian squeezed desperately back- they were both horribly scared, but they had each other at the end, and that was more than they could ask for, really.

* * *

Gideon swallowed uneasily, the sound echoing through his head. For a second there was complete silence, complete stillness. Then suddenly, a flash of movement on his right- a spark of purple light -and he sprang, wand whipping through the air. Chaos was unleashed. On all sides arms blurred, streaks of multicoloured light bearing down on the two twins. Gideon let his instincts take over, raw yet fluid movements replacing standard duelling poses. Beside him Fabian moved in coordination to him wherever they went, slipping back into a familiar rhythm.

_Red light, Green light, Orange light..._They all began to merge together, and it was all Gideon could do to stop them striking. On minute, one hour? It was impossible to tell. A stitch began to knit itself into Gideon's side, but he didn't stop. He _couldn't _stop. Air was short into his lungs, thick smoke stripping his throat, choking him.

As he ducked forwards Gideon could see the village for a moment, as undisturbed as when they'd arrived. The muggles here didn't seem to even notice the commotion going on outside, happily getting on with their Christmas. Then he leapt back to his feet and the sight was gone- he was back in hell.

* * *

Fabian inhaled sharply, rolling to the left and feeling his twin adjust to move with him. The flare of green light flashed past, taking a Death Eater down on the other side of the circle with a yell. More purple sparks, more red, Fabian was finding it hard to keep up. Duelling had always been something the twins excelled at, but this was on an entirely different level. The Death Eaters were standing still, almost casually firing, while Fabian was practically doing acrobatics on the spot!

Both of them were slowing down now, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and blood where they hadn't quite gotten out of the way fast enough. Fabian tried to adjust his wand while blocking and almost lost his grip, Gideon tripped on a loose stone and lurched backwards.

There was a single second where everything went still, and as one the Death Eaters raised their wands, eyes jubilant behind their grotesque masks. Fabian found his brother's wrist once more, stooping down to his level; this was it, the end-

Quite suddenly the Death Eaters jerked, left arms reflexively coming upwards. The Dark Mark was burning. The twins froze with bated breath. "The Order must be interfering." A rough voice came somewhere from Fabian's left, and instantly the Death Eaters broke off into two separate groups. Five black shapes melted into the darkness; five remained. Shakily the twins scrambled to their feet and the dance resumed.

* * *

Over, under, roll to the side, duck. Repeat, _twist_. Gideon growled, his muscles protesting as he fell to the floor again. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead into his eyes, making it hard to see. Somewhere along the line Fabian had picked up a limp. It was almost over.

Where the twins tired the Death Eaters only seemed to pick up speed, almost seeming to enjoy their depleted numbers. Roll again, dive out of the way, try not to collapse...any hope new of the Order had brought to the twins had long faded. Deflect, fire back, block-

Finally, Fabian's bad ankle gave out, sending him tumbling onto the cobbles. All momentum gone, Gideon crashed down after him, all the air leaving him with a gasp. Blindly he reached out for something, anything. For the last time, the Prewett twins clutched each other's wrists.

There was a bang, an intense flash of the deepest green, and then...

Nothing.


	5. Chapter 5: Alicia: Book 1: Moment 2

Lie To Me, Please

Missing Moment: Book 1 moment 2

Hagrid's meeting with Sirius and borrowing the flying motorbike

By: PeneMuzBubbles: Alicia: Slytherin House

Empty.

Free of any signs of life.

Peeling wallpaper hanging uselessly, cluttered pieces of paper strewn across the floor in a frenzy, the thought that maybe – maybe, things aren't ought to be as they seem finally settles in your head as you ponder the situation before yourself.

And it hits you like a bolt of lightning.

The clues were there all along Sirius, you should have known. All those times you were off fighting those Death Eaters, did you ever stop to think that even if you once defeated Bellatrix in a game of a duel – she never lost that all- knowing, toe-curling smirk of hers that claimed she knew something you did not?

Did you ever stop to think that maybe winning those fights seemed a little too easy – or the fact that Pettigrew was always in the shadows when you were off fighting valiantly?

Did you ever get off your sanctimonious horse to actually care for the things that were happening around you- not for yourself and that proud little family of three?

No, you did not. Because if you did, you would not be taking everything for granted as you did all along. Because if you did, you would have realized that there was no easy way out of a battle. Because if you did, you would have realized that the world is not black and white. More like black and grey.

Sirius – the world is not divided into good people and death eaters. There are traitors and rats in between always hiding behind the protection of the winning side. In this case, you think of Peter Pettigrew.

You mull over your stupidity. You thought it was Remus, did you not? The helpless werewolf; and you were so sure he would accept Voldemort's offer.

But in the end, he did not. Albeit, yes, he did in fact lose touch for the last past few years but you should have realized that maybe it was for your safety.

And then your stomach drops as you fit the puzzle and realize it was Peter all along. The Rat.

Your gaze is obscured by a haze of red, now. You feel betrayed, used and most of all – livid. But, you have to quench your thirst for taking revenge upon your so-called best friend. You have to make sure they're safe.

They have to be.

They were your only family.

You can't bear losing them.

James – your best friend of nine years, your partner in crime, your most trusted and loyal friend, your brother.

Lily – the most entertaining red-head you know. You love her as much as you love her husband. She's your sister, you would die for her.

Harry – your godson, the Marauder protégée. It is the thought of losing him that drives the fuel into the already burning fire.

Without stopping to think, you rush out the door and hop on to your motorcycle. You give it a kick start, and swerve out of the porch. It has been less than a minute and you are already up in the air, flying in the direction of Godrics Hollow.

All the while, you're praying for them to live. You don't know what you'd do without them. They had supported you through all of your stupid ideas and loved you and were there for you when no one else was. You cannot lose them. They were the nicest people you knew, practically family.

And you're there. Your hands are trembling furiously and your heart is stammering in your chest. Your knees are weak as you park the motorcycle and you cling to it for support as you step onto the ground.

You cannot recognize the burning sensation in your throat, you do not realize that your eyes are leaking or that your breath is coming in short gasps.

You just have to make sure they are safe.

The little cottage is crumbled and burning as you enter it. You notice James' body lying spread eagled on the floor, the edge of his glasses cutting into his cheek bone. His mouth is wide open but his eyes are closed. Death does not suit him well. Willing your eyes to look at something other than the corpse of your best friend, you take a sweeping glance of the ground floor before trudging upwards. Your hands are shaking as you grab the railing to steady yourself. 'Lily?' you call out in a small voice which is trembling as well.

'Lily, are you there?' you all but sob as you enter the room meant for Harry. The previously bright yellow walls look like they have been burnt off and you notice a dark aura surrounding the room.

You take a glance of the room and notice Lily's corpse lying on the ground, her hands spread out as if to save the crib behind her from destruction.

You close your eyes; horrified at the sight before you. You are about to collapse into tears when you hear something shift. Too weak to fight, you open your eyes slowly. You don't expect a miracle – you don't expect yourself to wake up from this nightmare to find Lily and James smiling happily down at you.

But your eyes do widen and you do gasp as you see your godson looking up at you with fearful eyes. Grabbing him from his cot, you secure his head on your shoulder and run away – run away from the first time in your life. You have to make sure he's safe. Voldemort could still pop out and Avada Kedavra you for all you know. You have to send him under the protection of Dumbledore.

You whip out your wand as you exit the building and mutter Aguamenti – watching the flames die slowly.

Then you hear a rumbling behind you and grip your wand as tightly as you can whilst making sure Harry is safely cradled in your arms and hidden from view. You haven't noticed that Harry is bleeding from the forehead.

You turn around to face Hagrid and you're relieved.

'Holy Hippogriffs, tha' little piece o' scum-'he growls as he takes in the scene before him.

'Hagrid' you manage to say even though your throat is clogged, 'Take Harry to Dumbledore straight away. Tell him Lily and James are- are dead. Take him now, before something else happens- in fact take my motorcycle with you. Get to Dumbledore as fast as you can and make sure Harry stays safe'

You release Harry from your vice-like grip and press a kiss to his forehead – thanking heavens that he survived. You have made up your mind now, the fact that Harry survives gives you hope and you are going to track down that traitor and make him pay viciously.

You hand over Harry to Hagrid and turn around, fueled with the energy to get your revenge back. But you wait. You wait till they're gone, disappearing from view and you wipe the last tears from your eyes before you swivel around at the sight of tiny little rat like footsteps and chase after them.

You will be avenged.


	6. Chapter 6: Lynne: Book 3: Moment 2

_A New Piece of Jewelry_

Missing Moment: Book 3: 2.

When Professor McGonagall gave Hermione the Time-Turner

By: ForbiddenLove7 (Lynne) : Ravenclaw

"_Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely."_

~ Rodin

Hermione hurried with Harry and Professor McGonagall to her Head of House's office, worried sick about her best friend and completely confused. She didn't know why they were going to her Head of House's office instead of the hospital wing, considering the fact that Harry had just collapsed from a dementor attack.

When Madam Pomfrey finally showed up, Hermione felt a bit better – she had been planning on dragging him off to the Hospital Wing after this meeting, anyway – and she started to worry about what classes she would be able to take this year. She had heard from Professor McGonagall over the summer that she and Professor Dumbledore were working on figuring out a way for her to take all the classes for which she had signed up, but that was the last she had heard of it. She really wanted to take all of these classes, too – they all sounded fascinating. Even Divination, if it was taught by a good teacher, could be interesting. Although, now that Hermione thought about it, she didn't know who taught that class. She didn't think she'd ever seen anyone who might look like a Seer at any of the feasts or meals, or even walking around the school, which was strange, and –

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped. Her mind had been wandering – not something that happened often in the presence of a teacher, but at least she wasn't in class. "You and Mr. Potter will be able to go on to the Welcome Feast in a minute, but first I need to speak with you alone."

"Is anything wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"No," said McGonagall, a small smile gracing her face and making her look much younger. "I have some good news for you regarding your course schedule."

Hermione sat up eagerly. "I'd been wondering about that, but I didn't want to bother you over the holiday," she confessed, barely daring to hope as she waited to hear what her Head of House had to say.

Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and waved it over a box on her desk, murmuring a few inaudible words as she did so. Then she opened the box and pulled out a long, thin gold chain, holding it up almost in distaste. Something small and gold dangled from the chain. Hermione leaned forward, trying to see what it was. It almost looked like… but surely that wasn't possible…

"I don't think they ever should have made these things in the first place," McGonagall muttered, and Hermione looked at her in surprise, temporarily distracted from the strange necklace. She had never heard her Head of House say anything like that before.

"If you don't mind me asking, Professor, why not?" Hermione inquired curiously.

"Messing with time, Miss Granger, can be a nasty business if one is not careful," McGonagall replied pointedly.

"Messing with – _oh!_" Hermione breathed in realization. "So that _is _what I thought it was!"

"And what is that, Miss Granger?"

"A Time Turner," she whispered almost reverently. "How did you ever manage to get one? I thought they were completely restricted and controlled by the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall's expression was a combination of annoyed and rueful. "It certainly wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. I wrote numerous letters to the Ministry and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, trying to convince them that if there was ever a student who should be allowed to use a Time Turner to take multiple, overlapping classes, it is you, Miss Granger." Hermione turned a very bright shade of red at her words; McGonagall rarely gave compliments at all, forget ones such as that.

"Even so, I thought for a few weeks that it was all going to fall through; Professor Dumbledore actually had to go in and speak with the head of Magical Law Enforcement – don't look like that, Miss Granger, it was no trouble and he completely agrees that you should be given this opportunity – and managed to convince her that you were a model student who could be trusted with such an artifact. Yes, artifact," she added upon seeing Hermione's confused expression. "Creating a device to change time is not a joke, Miss Granger. I have no idea how old this particular one is; it could be several hundred years at least. I do know that there are only nine of them in existence, including this one. I do not believe I need to tell you that if you damaged or lost it, the consequences would be horrendous."

Hermione shook her head so hard and fast that she felt dizzy. "No, Professor. That will never happen, I promise you."

"I trust you, Miss Granger," her Head of House replied. "However, although they are mostly common sense, there are a few rules you need to know. The first is the most important – no matter what it takes, no one can see you when you are traveling back in time. Absolutely _no one_; and that includes yourself. You do not want to find out what would happen if someone saw two of you – or if your past self happened to see your time-traveling self walking down a hallway. Deaths and worse have occurred when wizards made mistakes in the past."

Hermione nodded, eyes wide. She was starting wonder if this was a good idea after all.

"Secondly, you can tell no one what you are doing or how you are taking so many classes, not even Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley." Hermione nodded; that made sense. She could probably trust Harry, but he was already trying to deal with both dementors and Sirius Black on the loose, and it was very likely that Ron would slip up and tell someone, what with his temper. It would simply be easier to not tell either of them.

"Thirdly, you must promise that you will not use this Time Turner for anything except going to classes. Not for completing homework, not for visiting with friends, not even for getting more sleep. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said hesitantly. "I understand, but…"

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," her Head of House said, almost kindly. "I have the utmost confidence that you can handle both your course load and your relationships with friends and other students this year. In fact, I'm proud of you, and looking forward to seeing what you can achieve this year in all of your classes."

Hermione's worry disappeared as the warm glow of praise filled her. Suddenly, she was filled with excitement for the coming year and anticipation for the work she would be doing. "Professor, I can't thank you enough for doing this."

"It's no trouble, Miss Granger," McGonagall replied, another small smile on her face. "There are great things in store for you, anyone can see that." She stood, and Hermione followed her lead. "On your word, do you promise to follow the guidelines that have been set and to see me if you have any questions or concerns?"

"I promise," Hermione said, looking directly into her Head of House's eyes.

"Thank you. Now, I believe this is for you," Professor McGonagall said, and handed Hermione the Time Turner.

The girl stared at it in awe and fascination. On the thin gold chain hung a small and delicate hourglass, intricate patterns twisting all over the gold and catching the light. It was beautiful.

"I suggest that you wear it around your neck at all times," Professor McGonagall said, walking over to the door and waiting for Hermione to slip the chain around her neck and under her robes. "It will be very hard to misplace that way. Come, Miss Granger, it is time that we returned to the Feast."

Hermione followed her out of the office, unable to keep a massive smile off of her cheeks even though Harry gave her a curious sideways glance. She couldn't wait to see what this year had in store.


	7. Chapter 7: Tenzin: Book 1 Moment 1

The Spice and Un-pleasantries of Life

Missing Moment: Book 1;1.

The Dursleys finding Harry on their doorstep

By: Mi High Lover: Tenzin: Slytherin

It had been a rather normal, no nonsense day for Petunia. Dudley had learned a new word; shan't! Petunia was rather pleased with this new development and took Dudley out for some (which meant a lot!) sweets.

As Vernon came back from work she busied herself with craning her neck to see the latest gossip with Mrs Next Door. She was satisfied indeed when she heard a scream of mortification from Mrs Next Door, if the sight that came next was to be believed then Petunia had her piece to share for her weekly gossip.

She then opened the door as Vernon came through taking his coat and putting it on the coat hanger. In a way Petunia had been jealous of Lily. Lily had gotten a fairy tale romance with everything and now she was probably reveling in it.

The same old thing always happened at Number 4 Privet Drive. Petunia would stay home and look after Dudley and on weekdays Vernon would go to work. On the weekends Vernon would just lie around being lazy and not do anything much.

Petunia was shocked but rectified her shock with anger when Vernon mentioned her no good sister.

"Petunia dear, you haven't heard from your sister lately have you?"

Petunia grew angry at this, it was an unspoken agreement between her and Vernon that her sister and her no good family were not to be spoken about.

"No. Why?"

Petunia was suspicious of Vernon suddenly bringing up the subject of her sister but she shrugged it off. After all anything concerning her dratted sister certainly couldn't concern her now! Could it?

Petunia went to sleep restlessly that night unbeknownst to Vernon.

The next morning Petunia woke to hear the doorbell ring to signal that either a visitor was dropping by or the milkman had come.

Petunia screamed so loudly that it broke the soundwaves of her husband's snoring.

There on her doorstep was a baby two times smaller than her own son but reasonably healthy with a jagged scar like lightning on his face, messy black hair, but what really made her scream was the emerald green eyes that pierced her like her sister's did once.

Petunia shakily reached for the letter that had come along with the baby in the basket.

She thought frightened that just yesterday she and Vernon had been discussing the spawn her sister had had for a short time and thought maybe it was a coincidence.

Petunia Dursley did not take things like coincidences lightly. In her opinion coincidences were like magic. Made to be ignored and believed by freaks only.

The letter read this;

_Dear Mrs Petunia Dursley,_

_An unfortunate event has occurred to do with the Lord Voldemort that your sister once told you about and it has led to the deaths of your sister Lily and her husband James. The only survivor of this attack and the killing curse is your nephew Harry. The killing curse is fatal and there is no spell to avoid it, but what I have discovered is that something protected young Harry. Love. Your sister's love for her son was so great that it saved him from dying. That was ancient magic Mrs Dursley and ancient magic has its repercussions and its requirements. I have no doubt that Voldemort will return and when that happens, I think that Harry needs to be there. The ancient magic that your sister used to protect her son will wear off if he isn't placed with a blood relative and he calls the blood relative's house home._

_There are many blood wards I have placed on your house Mrs Dursley, so any Dark Arts supporters will not be able to attack anyone in your house unless 1 of the 2 conditions come to pass or be broken;_

_1. Harry calls your house home._

_2. Harry turns seventeen._

_I implore you Mrs Dursley to look after him and take care of him as he was your own son. _

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

The letter floated down to the floor as Petunia fainted. When Vernon came down the stairs later he was horrified to see a young baby boy and his unconscious wife in the hallway. He nursed his head as he spotted the letter. Once fully reading the letter, Vernon grew furious and threw the letter into the fire.

_WE ARE NOT RUNNING A BLOODY ORPHANGE FOR FREAKY KIDS! _He though outraged to himself.

Yet the magic part made him freeze. These hocus pocus magicians could do anything to them. Vernon sighed furiously. Unless he wanted his family to go ka-boom because of some magicians, then the boy would have to stay.

Upstairs Dudley Dursley was crying and hated being ignored by his parents but it was no use when his mother was unconscious and his father was drinking brandy. Hearing his cousin cry baby Harry started crying too.

So all in all began the life of Harry Potter at Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey.


	8. Chapter 8: Jess: Book 7: Moment: 7:

Feasting With Death

Missing Moment: :Book 7: 7:

Opening Feast

By: Phoenixica24: Jess: Gryffindor

Lightning crackled across the ceiling of the Great Hall, as students flooded in, and everything seemed coated in flashing black and white. Severus tried to ignore the glares he got from students at all four House tables, and some from the staff table as well. If only they knew.

One glare in particular drew his attention. Ginevra, Potter's ex-girlfriend. She looked about ready to try and murder him right then and there. He would have to watch out for her. Her, Longbottom, the weird Ravenclaw-Lovegood's daughter? And few others. The rest would quietly do as they were told.

He scanned the crowd for a sight of his godson, Draco. The young Mr. Malfoy was sitting with his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, laughing openly at their presumably disgusting attempts at humor.

How many of them know what has truly happened? How many would honestly give their lives in this war-for either side? Severus wondered as he idly watched the Sorting, although his thoughts were not particularly directed towards the new first-years, but to all the students. How many, and who? From which Houses?

And all of a sudden he realized with no small amount of shock that he had to make a speech. Of course, Albus always did, and his portrait had warned Severus that this would happen, but he was completely unprepared for such palpable hatred radiating off of the students. You're just being paranoid, he scolded himself mentally. None of them can hurt you.

He stood and glared down at the assembled students. Clearing his throat softly so no one would hear, he mentally ran through a quick speech, making everything up on the spot. Do not mention Albus, or you will break down in front of everyone and ruin everything.

And he spoke.

GWGWGW

The slimy git finally opened his mouth and spoke, but in that instant before sound reached my ears, I realized the power of evil to make good strong. I'd always hated Ron, but now I wished he were here. He would be making fun of Snape. Come to think of it, it was thanks to him that Harry had ever noticed me. These realizations were inspired because of the most evil man on the planet-second only to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself!

Looking around the Hall, I saw people that I had disliked or even hated for years, and yet I was willing to fight with them, die by their sides, although maybe not for some of them. The only exceptions were those who actually supported this dragon dung with all their hearts. Like Malfoy. I wanted to pull a Hermione and punch him right then. Not slap, punch. Not in the face, but somewhere he would be feeling it for a long time. If I wiped out the Malfoy family line, so be it. They were all jerks anyway.

"For those of you slow-minded enough to have not heard yet, I am your new Headmaster. No rule-breaking will be tolerated. Gone will be the gentle punishments, and instead you will learn what it is to be real witches and wizards. Those of you who succeed will be rewarded. Fail, and the punishments will be severe. You are here to learn and gain an education, not to enjoy yourselves by lazing around as if you were so many fat slugs." his lip curled at the thought. "Am I clear?" No one protested. No one spoke. He sat down again.

I wanted to strangle him so badly, I was sure my gaze was scorching him. But the bastard paid me no attention, merely picking at his food almost moodily. My eyes widened slightly, and I looked around. No one was paying him any attention anymore. Except me. I was silent and refused to eat all throughout the feast. Too busy thinking to notice as people began to leave. Too busy to notice when Snape was the only other person in the room.

"Are you really so desperate for attention as to sit all night? Despite my clear statement regarding the rules not two hours ago?" he asked silkily.

I jumped, startled, then glared at him. "No."

"That would be a 'No, sir,' I believe." he corrected me, a small, malicious smile twisting his thin, ugly lips.

"N-Yes...sir." I whispered the last word, as the Carrows called for Snape. He seemed exceptionally annoyed, but left me alone. Alone to ponder all that had happened. Maybe staying at Hogwarts wasn't so bad after all. There had to be something I could do...

Lost in thought again, I wandered up to the common room and from there to my bed. I lay awake all night, staring upward at nothing, save the inside of my head as my thoughts swirled ever round...

SSSSSS

This year would be the hardest and possibly the worst of my life, and I knew it. It was also the most important. I would have to be very careful. My number one case to prosecute and protect was Miss Weasley, already plotting ways to make this harder than it needed to be, no doubt, judging by her actions at the feast.

I rubbed my head, startled by the blinding headache. Why must everyone make this so much harder than it needs to be?

"Everything worth anything must be difficult for its' own sake, my boy." the portrait of Albus spoke up.

I glared at him, wishing he would just go up in smoke. How could he always read my mind?

"I don't. You are so easy to read."

"Clearly not." Or maybe more people would understand me if that were true...

"Most people are so frightened by your exterior that they never look further, never ask why. You need to lighten up, my boy."

"And to do so now would mean to die." I snarled.

"You've left it too long, Severus. I warned you-"

I stormed out of the room.

GWGWGW

Was there any redemption for anyone in the castle? We had just feasted with evil, accepting them calmly. We had feasted with Death Eaters. We had feasted with Death. There is no redemption for any of us here, now. Run, Harry, run, Ron, go far away, and take Hermione with you! Hogwarts is gone. Here we feast with Death.


	9. Chapter 9: Flare: Book 2: Moment: 8

Missing Moment:Book 2: 8.

Lockhart at Saint Mungo's.

By FrivolousFlare (Flare): Ravenclaw

Clean shades of white and pale blue flashed passed a golden-haired man as he was wheeled down a long corridor. His blue, childish eyes were wide and curious as he glanced around and up at the young, fair-haired witch taking him, a bright, charming smile on his face.

All around him, women and female nurses and doctors were glancing out of their rooms and wards to catch a glimpse of the handsome man. He was pushed through a pair of double doors into a bright, airy ward, and taken to a bed by the window. The blonde witch helped him into the bed, her cheeks and ears staining pink, and gave him a smile.

"Do you need anything, Mr. Lockhart?"

Gilderoy Lockhart didn't respond at first. He seemed somewhat distracted, glancing around the ward and out of the window. He then noticed the blonde witch staring expectantly at him and seemed to suddenly remember something. "Oh, that's me, isn't it?" he said, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"Yes…" the witch replied carefully. "Do you? Need anything, that is?"

"I wouldn't say no to a dry cherry, but I doubt you'd let me have any in this…um…" he trailed off.

"Hospital?" the witch said helpfully. Lockhart nodded and pointed at her.

"That's the word! Anyway…I don't think I'd be allowed one in this…hospital."

She shook her head. He sighed and shrugged and lay down, only to sit up again and look around. There were only a few other people in the ward, all of whom were asleep, apart from a young boy who was curled up and watching them fearfully. Lockhart ignored the boy and instead focused on the person in the bed next to him; an older, pale-skinned witch. However, he was more interested in the book on her bedside table. It was a thick, leather-bound volume with golden writing, that read 'Magical Me', adorning the image of a handsome man with blue eyes and fair hair that fell in a perfect wave on top of his head. He was smiling cheerily, flashing his pearly white teeth. Lockhart cocked his head and pointed at the book.

"He's a handsome chap, isn't he?" he commented, his eyes showing approval as he grinned at the picture of himself.

"Erm…yes…" the witch replied, biting her bottom lip. "Why don't you try to get some sleep, Mr. Lockhart?"

"Sleep? I couldn't possibly sleep. Not after what I've been through! Giant snake skins, people-carrying birds, kids with swords!"

The witch pressed her lips together. She was in-training, and honestly wasn't sure what to do. Luckily, she was saved when an older, more experienced nurse, with short-cropped dark hair and grey eyes, came in. He smiled and nodded at her then walked over to Lockhart.

"How are you feeling, professor?"

"Me? Professor? I wouldn't be calling me that. I don't know the first thing about anything," Lockhart laughed.

"I'm sure you do," he replied kindly, flipping through a booklet and not actually looking at him.

"No I don't! Go on, ask me a question. I'm certain I won't be able to answer!"

"There's no need for that." The nurse waved him off. "Try and get some sleep, you'll feel better in the morning," he said, finally glancing up from the booklet. Lockhart sighed.

"I don't suppose I'll be getting any visitors, then?" he enquired.

"You may…" he answered carefully, unsure himself.

"Hmm…" Lockhart lay down again and dazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"What happened at…um…" Lockhart clicked his fingers as he struggled to recall something. Since his memory charm had backfired, he'd had trouble remembering things. "That…school…"

"Hogwarts?" the witch chipped in.

Lockhart smiled. "That's the one! What happened? Really happened?"

The two nurses exchanged looks of confusion. Lockhart seemed to notice and so said, "I mean, why would a kid have a sword? And what would they be doing in that cave? With all the rocks and that giant snake skin?"

Again, the nurses glanced at each other, looking quite puzzled. Naturally, the truth of what had happened at Hogwarts hadn't been released in any form, and those who knew weren't to tell anyone. The story would probably never be released, and even if it was, who would believe it?

"Perhaps that was a dream?" the witch tried weakly. Lockhart shook his head.

"Nonsense!" There was a moment of silence, during which he combed his fingers through his hair and frowned. "Anyone have a mirror?"

The nurse rummaged around in a drawer and finally found a small, hand-held mirror and handed it to him. He snatched it up greedily and held it in front of his face.

What followed next almost shook the room. It woke up many of the ward's occupants in a startled daze, and almost gave the old, pale skinned witch a heart-attack.

"By gum! Is that a spot!"


	10. Chapter 10: Toff: Book 7: 11

The Sounds of Regret

Missing Moment: Book 7: 11.

Ron going to Shell Cottage

By Toffrox33: Toff: Ravenclaw

He was making a lot of noise.

In his anger, he stomped over the dry leaves and brittle twigs which littered the forest floor that he walked across. Any branch in his way was roughly shoved aside, sometimes the branches were small and weak. They would break off and fall to the ground with great cracks that echoed through the woods. The sound of his rage filled the forest's silence. It was all he heard, streaming through his consciousness, stopping him from thinking, or feeling anything else.

When he first started walking, breaking the first branch, there was another sound. He thought she might have been crying, but he didn't turn to check. He convinced himself that he didn't care and stuck with that. The echo of her pleas followed him through the woods for a while, mingling with his own explosive anger. But eventually, the echo faded away… And now he could hear nothing but explosives.

He continued to walk until the trees stopped. He emerged onto the bank of a stream. With no more trees to break and snap, the sound of his rage died away. Instead the stream babbled along, and Ron was suddenly hit with the incredible, pressing weight of what he had just done.

The absence of the locket around his neck was a noticeable relief. He could suddenly think with a lot more clarity. He found he could barely remember what he had been thinking back in the tent, as he yelled at his best friend.

Slowly, he sat down on the wet grass and tried to think. His ears were ringing from his forest rampage.

What had he been thinking? He knew the risks they'd taken. He had promised to stay with Harry. He promised Hermione…

Maybe Dumbledore hadn't given Harry a specific plan like they'd thought. But they were still so much closer than anyone else in the country was to defeating You-Know-Who…

He should go back. He knew he should. He wondered whether they'd let him return, or whether Harry could ever forgive him.

But this wasn't the first time they'd fought. They'd both said horrible things to each other before.

Plus, this was a war… there was so much tension surrounding them constantly. They were bound to get a little wound up. Not to mention Ron had been wearing the locket at the time… and he still hadn't eaten properly in days.

Would Hermione forgive him? How would they react if he went back now?

He could imagine walking back into the tent, filled with shame. It would be tough, they would probably be really angry.

But at least he'd be with them again.

Ron groaned into his hands. He had to go back. He had to fix this. The babbling stream kept on babbling, but without the sound of his own rage surrounding him, everything was silent. He wasn't used to being alone. He needed to get back to Harry and Hermione.

So he stood up, ready to head back. But as he turned around, the silence was interupted.

Out of nowhere, a group of five men had appeared in front of him. Ron felt his heart sink as the leader grinned toothlessly at him.

"Well, well… 'oo do we 'ave 'ere?"

It was over. They were gone.

Ron sat in the middle of a patch of grass, which bore the unmistakable signs of having been flattened by a tent. His voice was hoarse from yelling, and his fingers were aching and drenched in blood from where he'd splinched himself. He'd spent days in the forest, calling out, trying to find the spot where they'd been camping, but when he'd finally found it, there were no protective spells, no tents and no Harry or Hermione.

Ron was finally alone. Sitting there under his own badly cast disillusionment spell, trying to avoid snatchers, while he cradled his injured hand and sat in the silent forest, searching desperately for his friends.

But his friends weren't coming back and he wasn't going with them. He would have to go somewhere else, somewhere safe, and try to find some way to get to them again.

It would do him no good to sit on the flattened grass and wallow in the sound of his own regret.

Fleur sat up sharply from where she'd been lying with her head on Bill's lap. Bill looked up from tuning the radio to frown at her.

"Did you 'ear zat?" Fleur asked, looking around the room warily.

"What?" Bill looked around aswell, straining his ears to listen for unfamiliar sounds. Before Fleur could answer him, there was a bang on the door. Fleur jumped and let out a quiet yelp. Bill's eyes narrowed. He leapt up and drew his wand, heading to the front door. "Who's there?" He asked. Fleur came up behind him, clutching his arm with one hand and holding her wand with the other.

"It's Ron." Came the familiar voice of Bill's brother. He sounded weak, tired and upset. Fleur felt Bill tense. She could see the physical change in her husband as his big brother senses kicked in.

"Ron?" Bill said in surprise. Fleur squeezed his arm in warning. Bill glanced at her before realizing his mistake and turning back to the door. "Prove it!" He called. "Who did we disguise Harry as at my wedding?"

"Cousin Barney." Ron replied, his voice strained. "We took hair from some muggle guy in the village and used it for polyjuice…"

Bill considered this, trying to decide whether that was enough. Then Ron groaned in pain and Bill shoved his wand in his pocket and wrenched the door open. Fleur stepped back as Ron stumbled inside. She stared at him in shock. They had had no idea what Ron and Harry and Hermione had been doing together, but clearly it was not pleasant. Ron was covered in dirt and had more than one blood stain on his shirt. His hair was overgrown and he hadn't shaved. His face was grimy and streaked with tears and one of his hands was covered in dry blood. Bill helped to steady him and Fleur hurriedly shut the front door and followed the two men to the couch.

"Ron, what happened?" Bill asked. Ron grimaced. Bill gently took his injured hand and lifted it up to inspect it.

"Splinched." He muttered. "Not the first time." He added. Bill started to peel off the blood-soaked rag that Ron had tied around his fingers. "S'not as bad as it looks… Just a few fingernails gone." Ron winced as Bill held his hand up to have a closer look. Fleur took over and cleaned the dry blood off of his arm with her wand. Bill let her take the hand as she started to heal the raw cuts on the tips of his fingers.

"What happened to you?" Bill asked in shock. Ron grimaced, more from emotional pain than physical, it seemed.

"I left." He croaked.

"What do you mean, you left?" Bill asked.

"Me and Harry had a big fight. I got really mad… so I left."

Fleur stopped healing the cuts and raised her eyebrows. She stared at Ron in open-mouthed shock. He _left_?

"You left Harry and Hermione?" Bill asked, his own eyebrows rising. Ron avoided his brother's eyes.

"I didn't want to… I just got so angry. It was really hard out there. We didn't know about anything that was going on… and we had nothing to eat or anything. And then there was…" Ron stopped abruptly, having almost revealed something he shouldn't have. "I was just in a foul mood, and then Harry and me got arguing and Hermione took his side and I left. Then when I realised I was being a git and tried to go back I ran straight into a bunch of snatchers, and after I escaped and did this," he gestured to the hand that Fleur realised she should be finishing up healing, "I couldn't find them again. Ow!" Ron yelped and pulled back. Fleur had jabbed one of his cuts with her wand. Hard.

"Sorry." She snapped. But she wasn't. How could he have left them? What sort of friend was he?

Bill gave her a warning look. "Why did you come here?" He asked Ron. Clearly Bill was annoyed with Ron aswell, for abandoning Harry, but ever the caring big brother, he didn't mention it.

"Only place I could think of." Ron shrugged. "I knew that home was out… Fred and George would of killed me, not to mention Ginny." He looked sheepish. Bill managed a half-smile.

"You're right, they would have." He agreed. Fleur finished healing Ron's hand and conjured a bandage for him. "Maybe you should go and get washed. Have a bath or something."

"Okay." Ron flexed his newly healed hand. "Thanks." He said to Fleur. But she just glared at him. Ron sighed and headed to the hallway. He turned around at the last minute to face Bill. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to try and defend his decision… but then he changed his mind and left the room in silence.

Once he was gone, Fleur turned to her husband. She opened her own mouth to make an angry remark, but Bill interupted her without turning to face her.

"He regrets it, Fleur. That's enough."

But as Ron settled down upstairs, sinking into the tub of warm water, he could hear nothing but the waves crashing onto the shore outside. He knew without a doubt that it wasn't enough. And it wouldn't _be_ enough, until he heard the sounds of his friends voices again.


	11. Chapter 11: TheTwoGirls Book 6: 2

My New Master is Who?

Missing Moment: Book 6: 2.

'Dumbledore telling Kreacher who his new master is'?

By: TheTwoGirls: Gryffindor

"If they make Kreacher work in this ugly castle, Kreacher will not hold back to throw a tantrum." Kreacher mumbled impatiently to himself as he walked up the steps of the eagle staircase that headed to Dumbledore's office, his skinny knees cracking every now and then.

Kreacher knew that every member of the Black family had studied magic in this school, for that reason he respected the school but it had also caught his attention that mudbloods and blood traitors also roamed the corridors of Hogwarts. He can't help himself but to think this as that was how his previous Masters' except Master Sirius had thought about the school. The pureblood mania was fanatical in the Black family and for that reason; Kreacher found himself siding with them instead, very unlike Dobby.

The stairs winded itself slowly before reaching the top and as a gust of wind blew past, Kreacher shivered. His thin cloth dangling upon his shoulders, Kreacher made his way to the giant wooden doors, now in front of him. He knocked on it, which sounded more like scrawny knuckles rasping itself on the door from the other side.

"Come in." an old dreary voice from inside answered.

Kreacher slowly pushed open the heavy door before popping a head inside.

"You asked for me, Dumbledore Sir?" As he said this, the haughtiness in his voice was not missed.

"Ah yes, Kreacher. Would you please come in? We have matters to discuss." said Albus taking no hint of Kreacher's attitude.

Dumbledore always knew from day one about the house elf's attitude but never had he bothered to change what he could not. Besides even if he did would the tiny elf listen?

Kreacher closed the door behind him before he started pulling out a wooden chair from a corner of the room.

"Kreacher, may I ask, exactly what are you doing?" Dumbledore asked bewildered to see the elf pulling the chair out when in front of his desk were two plush and rather comfortable, unoccupied chairs.

"I'm taking a seat sir, if that's alright with you?" he said casually as if it was the sanest thing to do.

"No…No no … That's not how guests' are welcomed here. Take a seat here in front of me." Dumbledore tut-tutted.

"Yes sir." Kreacher replied quietly before replacing the wooden chair and taking a seat in one of the huge chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Kreacher could not help but to feel a tad uncomfortable whilst sitting in the chair as he was not use to it.

The softness of it was very unfamiliar to him. Nevertheless, he found it relaxing so he just shut up and stared at Dumbledore with a straight face.

"Dobby, do you have any idea at all on why I have called you here?" Dumbledore asked now the clueless house elf.

Kreacher just merely shook his head.

"Are you aware of death of your late master, Sirius Black?"

At this Kreacher gasped, though he didn't like Master Black's ways, he was his Master, and all Masters' are to be respected.

"Of course Kreacher knew. He WAS Kreacher's master after all." Kreacher stated point blank thinking how ridiculous the question was.

"Kreacher, in no way did I call you here to offend you in any sort. I'm just simply here to tell you of the new arrangements that will be taken into action on 12 Grimmauld Place."

Dumbledore stopped to observe Kreacher's reaction to this piece of the news.

"What new arrangements exactly are these?" Kreacher slowly asked, his beady eyes squinting at Dumbledore as he sat up straighter.

"First off, Grimmauld Place will continue to play its role as the safe house for the Order of Phoenix." Kreacher couldn't help but snort at this statement.

"Secondly," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the house elf's rudeness, "since Sirius is dead, I will take his position as Secret Keeper of the house. Agree?"

"Agreed," Kreacher replied.

"Next, you are to remain at 12 Grimmauld Place as the house elf." Dumbledore said quickly hoping that the house elf hadn't heard what he said and he would be able to usher him out of the room.

"I am to what?" Kreacher shrieked. "Currently if it hasn't slipped your mind, I am a free elf since 12 Grimmauld place is currently without an owner, and if there's no owner, there's no master. No master clearly spells free elf for me." Kreacher billowed as loud as he could.

Dumbledore thought about this but the decision had already been made. So here comes the hard part.

"Kreacher, 12 Grimmauld Place does have an owner. Sirius had passed down the house to someone he cared about." Dumbledore stopped at this not sure how much further he should go on so and to make sure that the little elf takes it in ok.

This made Kreacher fidget in his seat. He knew he wasn't lucky enough to be free. He's been passed down along with the house for a couple of generations already. To think when the Black lineage actually died he would be free…but no.

"The last descendant of the Black family is dead!" Kreacher hissed. "Who else is there that Master Sirius could have possibly handed down the house too?" Kreacher asked his voice draped with pure menace.

"Harry Potter." The name came out in barely a whisper.

Now, Kreacher actually felt like the world has ended. Bloody Potter is his new master. Kreacher just couldn't accept the fact. The-Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, has mudbloods and blood traitors as friends. He would not allow them to take a single step inside his dear Mistresses' house.

This. Cannot. Be. Happening.

"Now Kreacher, I know you don't like it, but that's how it is. So, you'll just have to get used to it." Dumbledore said not knowing what else is there to add in.

The elf turned and looked hard at Dumbledore.

"Thank you sir for sharing this bit of information with me," Kreacher replied in a wry tone. "If Potter is now my master, so be it!" Kreacher added before he got down from the chair and apparated straight from the office.

Dumbledore sat there, bewildered. 'Well at least that went well, now time to tell Harry.' Dumbledore thought to himself with a sigh.


	12. Chapter 12: Lune: Book 7: 3:

A Start

Missing Moment: Book 7: 3:

DA's attempt to steal the sword

By: Lune: Eccentric11: Gryffindor

Sometimes, a loud, noisy, festive atmosphere gives us inspiration. Sometimes it gives us a reason to start living again, because everyone else seems to be. But other times, it is the awkward, quiet moments, giving us time to think, causing everything to build up to one climax point where we stop getting lost in our thoughts and start making a change.

"We need to do something." Ginny Weasley stood up. "I cannot stand this anymore. We've been through a couple of these DA meetings, and we've got some good plans. But we never made any of them happen." She frowned.

"Ginny's right. We need to start with something. We will never really help Harry with this war if don't actually do something." Neville Longbottom slowly stood beside one of his best friends.

"We'll achieve something, I'm sure. Because we're brave and we are supporting what's right." Luna Lovegood smiled and stood, a bit further away from the other two.

"How about if we start with our first idea of a rebellion?" Colin Creevey suggested.

"That's a start." Luna kept her smile.

"But if all of us go on this mission, wouldn't it be harder to avoid getting caught?" Padma Patil made a good point.

"Well we'll vote." Neville, as the Gryffindor he is, confidently said.

"It's only right if you, Ginny and Luna go." Parvati rolled her eyes. "Everyone agree?" The rest of the room nodded and muttered words of approval. Ginny looked at Neville and Luna.

"Are you guys sure?" Ginny wanted to make sure, even though deep down she knew she, along with Neville and Luna, has to do something big because they are the closest to Harry-especially herself. She felt that they owe Harry the most and that they must help Harry as much as they could.

"Of course." Lavender Brown said without hesitation.

"Well then…" Luna mumbled.

"We'll go tomorrow night." Ginny's eyes were looking dead serious.

"Err… We c-can't do that." Neville stuttered. "Tomorrow the teacher's are having a meeting in the very room we're aiming for."

"How did you know that?" Luna serenely asked.

"I… have my resources, and I have been stalking people lately. A lot." Neville explained.

"The next night?" Ginny tried to find an alternative.

"Someone needs to spend some time having detention in that very room."

"Isn't that someone you, N-Neville?" Hannah Abbott, without meaning any harm, asked.

"Unfortunately, that's correct. I just couldn't see a day where the office would be empty this week." Neville tried to recall everything he knows. "Except for tonight."

"On such short notice?" Ginny raised her eyebrow. "Unlikely."

"Not even for Dumbledore?" Luna's eyes widened.

"It's just…" Ginny hesitated

"Come on, Ginny." Neville tried to convince her.

"Fine." Ginny didn't want to hurt her Gryffindor pride, besides she knew they needed to do something soon, and if that something can only happen tonight or next week, she would have to go with tonight.

"Be careful." Parvati said as Ginny, Neville, and Luna was on their way to the corridors. They all merely nodded.

It was dark, and silent.

"What if we get caught?" Ginny's lips trembled as the three stood in front of the Headmaster's office. Luna put her arms around Ginny and urged her to move on.

"Does anyone know the password?" Neville asked.

"Merlin's beard we completely forgot about that!" Ginny exclaimed and hopelessly touched the doors. It opened. "Wh-what?"

"Just come in." Luna led the group.

"What if it's a trap?" Ginny paused.

"We don't have time to check." Luna started climbing the stairs and soon enough were in the Headmaster's office.

"Now let's divide jobs." Neville ordered.

"Found it." Luna was already gazing at the shiny Gryffindor sword.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Ginny furrowed her brows.

"I believe someone had been helping us." Luna smiled.

"But why?" Neville slowly took the Gryffindor sword from Luna's hands and examine it for himself.

"Because they know we need to do this?" Luna plainly said.

"It doesn't make sense." Neville looked at Luna, then at Ginny, then back at Luna.

"Is it possible…" Ginny's voice trailed off. She was wondering if Harry was behind all this.

"I suspect the gargles." Luna beamed.

"It might be a trap." Neville remembered what Ginny said before.

"Look, we get out of here safely, then it's not a trap. We've gone too far to pretend we didn't do anything." Ginny thought everything over.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Luna, again, led the rest out of the office.

But somewhere in the room, a pair of eyes are lurking, the mouth belonging to the pair of eyes smiled a little satisfied smile. He knew they would do something, and he didn't bother stopping them from thinking they did it. He ran back through the plan in his head. The plan only he and Dumbledore knows, the plan he will soon have to help complete. He sighed and reminded himself; this is all for _her_ son.


End file.
